Last week brought Howard home from GenCon, finished off a few last summer outings, launched the kids into a new school year, brought back the remainder of books from GenCon, and stowed all the convention items into the storage units. Tomorrow I will launch into my attempt to organize a working schedule that functions around 6 hours of child-free time. Today I am betwixt and between.
I am the family prognosticator. It is my job in the morning to predict whether the kids should be wearing long or short pants. It is my job to look at a child’s crooked teeth and predict whether they need immediate attention or whether natural growth will solve the problem. It is my job to plan ahead and schedule events so that they do not conflict with each other. As part of that last, I must also plan ahead and leave space for events which are not yet scheduled, but are likely to be scheduled for me on short notice.
All of this has been very much on my mind because now is when I am setting up our business/family schedule for the 2010 year. The task has created quite a lot of internal tension for me because it seems like every day an exciting new possibility comes up. Then I have to analyze all over again what we can afford and what we have time to actually do. I have a strong motivation to not over schedule us for next year, because this year was insane. We have to have space between the big events. There has to be time set aside when life can be routine for weeks at a stretch. Every new idea threatens those unscheduled spaces. Howard’s usual answer is “I can do it. I’ll just work harder.” Part of me agrees. We could just work harder and snag up all these opportunities. But no one can run forever without breaking. In this case I am the weaker link. I can not work as hard, or as fast, or as long as he can. And so my limitations place limits on the business. This is not all bad. Not even Howard can run at top speed forever without breaking. I would like him not to break.
This afternoon I sat down with the calendar for next year. I once again looked at the major events and was able to picture how everything would fit. I could see the spaces that I have blocked out for routine. I’m back to feeling like 2010 might be a little less busy than this year. Maybe. I hope. I also spent time planning for our family vacation. That last piece helped everything else snap into perspective a little. The business things are going to take over all the family spaces because I have put a stake in the ground labeled “Family Vacation.” The vacation is not allowed to move. And I don’t think there will be a single businessy thing about it. Just Howard and I and the kids in a hotel near cool things to go see.
So I am feeling better. At least until the next cool thing is presented and I will be called upon to use my predictive powers to decide whether it can be done. My current prediction is that the next shiny option will present itself within the next two weeks.
I keep wanting to write a coherent entry with a theme, one I can wrap into a nice package where the end hearkens back to the beginning. I’ve started twice and deleted. Instead I’m got to throw random thoughts into their own paragraphs and see what I come up with. This is like throwing spaghetti against the wall to see if it sticks.
Today’s first post-school hour was filled with trauma. This was not because of any large or important events. It was because of severe crankiness on the part of three children. The second day of school is like that. We still have biorythmic adjustments to do. Also Link stayed up late last night because he needed to talk over body image, growing up, and friendships. It took quite a lot of listening and discussing to soothe him enough to sleep. He is so afraid of growing up. What I fail to mention to him is that his concern is an indicator that growing up has already begun. Patch’s cranky was made worse by the skin reaction he has from drinking chocolate milk at school yesterday. I told him he could try the milk to see if it caused a problem. It did. I’ll be sending juice boxes to school with him so that he can drink those instead.
Last year when school started it felt like I was catching my balance after stumbling around all summer long. It has not felt that way so far this year. Perhaps I need to give things a few more days to settle, but I’m not sure it will be that simple. Not having kids home during the day is a major shift in my life rhythm. I’m glad for it. I’m going to do good things with it, but I think settling in will take me a week or two. It is rather like moving into a large new house with all the stuff I crammed into a much smaller one. I know you’ll like it better, but at the moment I’m still not sure where everything goes.
In the past two days I have been asked for a medical opinion (on minor issues) twice. It is fascinating to me that people would turn to me for this sort of thing. It is even more boggling that I actually had a helpful answer both times. In both cases I’d had practical experience with similar things. In one of the cases my opinion was “You should see a doctor about that.” I have some basic knowledge, but I know when to call in the experts.
This past week has been a listening week for me. I’ve listened to Howard as he unpacks the convention experiences he had. I’ve listened to Link’s concerns. I’ve listened to Kiki talk about her friends and hopes for the coming year. I’ve listened to Gleek’s sadness at feeling left out of things. I’ve listened to Patch’s bedtime fears. I’ve listened while a friend worked through a major shift in her life. I’ve listened while a different friend sorted thoughts on a long standing issue. All of this listening requires more than just ears. I have to pay attention and seek inside to find what words will be best to answer with. And the words come. The right stories surface in my brain. I am so grateful for the inspiration that comes to me when I have important listening to do. And invariably I walk away from the conversation more whole myself because I spent time on something that mattered.
The pallet of books arrived back from GenCon. We sent about twice as much stuff as was necessary. This means that our profit margin is very slim. We broke even, but didn’t make much more than that. This is useful data for another year. I want nothing more than to not think about GenCon for awhile, but we’re already planning for next year. We are planning many things for next year and there are already more cool possibilities than we have the ability to follow through on. I need to go re-read my post about opportunities.
Aha. I just figured out how to connect the end to the beginning. If my ideas are like spaghetti noodles which I throw against the wall to see if they’re done, then my brain is like the sieve I use to strain the spaghetti. Only the holes are too large and it seems like half the spaghetti went slipping down the drain before I even got to the throwing part.
I have been anticipating this day for months. This is the day when all four of my kids trouped off for a full day of school. This is the day when all the chaos of convention preparation and clean-up is over. This is the day when the major shippings are all complete. This is the day when I know for sure exactly how much money we have to live on for the next six months. It was supposed to be a day of relief. Instead it has been a whole wash of emotions, like some wild abstract with the largest parts painted in depression, fear, and anxiety. Relief doesn’t appear anywhere in the picture. I am not relieved today.
In analyzing where these emotions are coming from, I realized that I was like the hiker who is looking ahead to the top of the hill. I’ve been planning to be on top of the hill, intending to rejoice. I could not see anything past that hill. Now I stand on top and I see how much further I have to walk. I see that there are other hills ahead of me. We’re already talking about major conventions and shipping events for next year. There will be more expenses and stresses. There will be an unending stream of needs to meet. The view makes me tired instead of triumphant.
Identifying the cause has really helped to dispel most of the negative emotions. Howard and I had a great conversation where we discussed all our financial details and laid out plans for how to proceed. We hashed out plans both for family and business. Now I can start walking again and remember that even though there is a lot of stuff ahead of me, this is a really lovely hike. It is time for me to stop staring ahead either in fear or anticipation. It is time for me to walk where I am and relish the gifts that today provides. Not the least of which is two more quiet hours before I get to welcome home all my not-so-little-anymore people. Then I think we will go feed ducks. I am not relieved today, but I’ve found some happiness despite it all.
Crisp backpacks, blinding white shoes
New classrooms
New teachers
strict bedtimes
homework supervision
young minds lit up with new knowledge
expectations, mis communications
fund raisers and classroom events
New principal, new rules
fights with friends, fears, feelings of abandonment
drama over homework
The exultation of difficult tasks completed.
Am I ready for this?
Emails and contracts
distribution and advertising
books to sell
books to create
people to convince
planning for next year
Sales on ebay
offering discounts
paper and boxes and strapping tape.
numbers in the red, numbers in the black
Hours in front of the computer
emails that make me cry for joy.
Am I ready for this?
plotting and planning
submitting and rejection
drafting and revising
pondering and research
reaching out for contacts
feeling alone
the solace of understanding friends
getting out of my house
laptop warmed legs
the joy of finding exactly the right words
Am I ready?
My church relies heavily on volunteers, although “volunteer” may not actually be the completely correct term. People are asked to take on jobs as a service to others. These jobs are usually termed “callings” because people are called into the office and asked to take the assignment. The option to say no is always there, but there is some social pressure to say yes. I have always believed that these assignments are guided by inspiration and that I will be blessed for the service I give. I have lots of evidence for the second part, because I have been blessed in countless ways from the various church assignments I have undertaken. Over the years I have been a youth group leader, a compassionate service leader (casseroles for the sick), a primary teacher (teaching children at church), an enrichment committee member (organizing social/educational evenings for adult women), an activities committee member (organizing activities for the entire congregation), a relief society teacher (Sunday lessons for adult women), and a cub scout leader.
My assignment for the past 18 months has been as a primary teacher. The first half of that time was teaching 10 year olds. The second half has been teaching 5 year olds. The five year old class has been a challenge and a joy. There are several kids in the class who are highly active and creative people. They don’t tolerate boredom well and will thus resort to spitting, loud noises, and wandering around the room in order to not be bored. My job has been to corral those restless minds and bodies, try to bring them back to what the group is doing, or at least to help them not be bored in ways that don’t disrupt everyone else. It is a tiring job. There have been many Sundays when I was not feeling up to the task. I muddled through anyway because I knew that however hectic things got, it would be better for me being there. I really understand these kids. It is like I can see inside their brains and know how to help church be good for them. So I went every week, calm in the knowledge that I was giving a gift to these kids and to their mothers who can really use the break from them.
This week I was asked to take on a different assignment. I was asked to be the Activity Days Leader helping organize bi-weekly activities for girls ages 8 -11. My daughter Gleek is part of that group. (She is thrilled.) The request came as a surprise to me, because I could not imagine anyone wanting to disrupt this particular class. I expected to stay with the class through December. I half expected to be moved up with them in January. I was completely at peace with this despite missing any chance to listen to do any growing myself on Sundays. My (former) class will be taken by my backyard neighbor. This gives me peace of mind because she loves and understands these kids as well as I do or better. I have no qualms at all about handing the class over to her. And yet I’m still feel like I stepped of the bottom step only to discover that there was an additional stair I wasn’t expecting. I had so settled in my mind that it was my place to serve in Primary that the shift to doing something else feels off balance. I should be rejoicing. I’ll get to sit in an adult meeting and learn instead of holding a wriggling child who is likely to pull on my ear rings or blow raspberries in my face. I won’t have to coax children out from under chairs. I won’t come home from church with bruises on my shins because of little kicking legs that couldn’t quite hold still. And yet, I should be sad because I’ll no longer get to observe those amazing little people who seem to think at right angles to everyone else. I said yes to the new assignment. Today I taught my class for the last time. The kids made almost no reaction to the news of their new teacher. This is fine. I want them to have a smooth transition rather than a major trauma. I’ll still see them frequently at church.
This shift just feels a part of all the other things that are shifting in my life right now. I am shifting to a quieter, less stress-driven phase of life. After four months of constant high-gear I’m slowing down. It feels strange to have long stretches of day with nothing urgent to drive me forward. I still have plenty to do, but I don’t have to run fast to avert crisis. “Running fast to avert crisis” is a pretty apt description of that primary class. So I suppose the new assignment will fit right in with the general slowing down of my life. I must be careful not to fill up my schedule with things again. Or rather, I must put back the slow, soul-filling things that were ejected from my schedule during the crazy months.
Before I left for WorldCon I blogged about the WorldCon Scavenger Hunt sponsored by Anthology Builder. At that time I mentioned that I would be handing out cool badges. What I did not mention (because I was not supposed to) is that I also functioned as one of the Anthology Builder secret agents. This meant that the folks at Anthology Builder sent me five books, one to give away each day at the convention to a person who was wearing an Anthology Builder badge.
Being a secret agent was fun. Everyone who received a book was delighted to have it. The harder part was carrying around the book until I found someone to give it to. WorldCon is big and the portion of attendees wearing badges was small. Some days it felt like a needle-in-the-haystack experience. Once I even resorted to putting some buttons on the freebie table and then lurking until someone put one on, then ambushing them with a book. She was really delighted and surprised, so that went well. I saw the button badges most frequently on the writers who were giving them out, but the buttons became easier to find as the convention progressed.
I recommend the Anthology Builder secret agent experience. It was fun. You can be a secret agent too. Anthology Builder would like to have agents at every major convention and they are happily recruiting. You can find out about it by emailing 007@anthologybuilder.com. They’ll even give you a small compensation for your time. But don’t do it for the compensation. Do it because it is fun to walk up to someone and delight them with a free book.
Howard calls me from conventions when he is on his way to his hotel room. At those moments he is in transition from convention day to convention evening. The conversations tend to be short because the transitions don’t last long. But we touch base a little and I get an idea of how the day went, how much we sold, and what things will need follow-up after the convention was over. The conversations are not as good as me being there to participate, but until the kids are old enough to either come along or take care of themselves I will not be able to attend every convention that Howard does. GenCon is being a really good convention. We have not sold as much as our wildest hopes imagined, but neither have we realized our worst fears. The reality is comfortably in the middle and now we have solid data for how much product to ship next time. But the sales are not what is making GenCon good. Howard has had several valuable business meetings. He has met cool new people. He has been able to hang out with long-time friends. Having good people around makes all the difference in the world. Howard is already spinning plans about going back to GenCon next year. It sounds like fun, we’ll have to look at it critically to see if it makes business sense.
On the home front, I found out who my three elementary kids have as teachers. They all got the teachers I wanted them to have. This bodes well. Link in particular is thrilled. He got the cool teacher he had been hoping for. We’re all starting to wrap our heads around school beginning next week. Everyone seems to be anticipating rather than dreading, so that is good too.
I’m not big on back to school shopping. I figure the kids can start school in the clothes they are already wearing. There is no point in spending money on cute sweaters and long pants when the first day of school is in August. But when three quarters of my kids have toes peeking out through the holes in their tennis shoes, it is time to go shopping whether or not school starts next week. It was nice being able to take advantage of the sales for things we definitely needed. While we were replacing things with holes we picked up some socks, underwear, and backpacks too. I am now $150 poorer, but the kids are happy with their shoes and stuff. It was very nice that none of the kids cried “unfair” because some kids got more things than others.
Lately I’ve been trying to restructure my relationship to food. I’ve always been of the “realize I am hungry and shove the most convenient cheap option into my mouth” school of cooking. Now, I’m trying to stop and think before eating. I am trying to be pickier. I am trying to select foods where my desire to eat them is sufficient to make me actually prepare food without the use of a microwave oven. On the whole I am eating less food, but enjoying eating more. I’ve been making use of things like feta cheese, rosemary bread, and vanilla yogurt. I’ve also discovered that the impact on my budget is not nearly has bad as I thought it would be. I use the expensive ingredients to replace the treats I used to buy. It is nice to realize that I am happier with a $3 loaf of rosemary bread than with that $2.50 half gallon of cheap ice cream. If we have to go into full-bore financial conservation mode, I’ll have to give up the pricier stuff. But for now the readjustment seems to be working.
And to bring the prior two paragraphs together, I have been pondering my responsibility as a parent to teach my kids how to manage their resources. I was a little alarmed of late when I realized that my kids regard eating out to be a regular occurrence. I grew up believing eating at McDonalds on road trips was the ultimate treat. On the one hand, I don’t want our family to fall into the expensive habit of eating out constantly. On the other hand, I don’t want my kids to think of McDonalds (or any fast food place) as the one true restaurant. I want my kids to have broad experiences with food, travel, and people. But I do not want them to take any of these things for granted. That is the gripping hand I guess. I don’t mind that we eat out when we’re too busy to cook (so long as we can afford it) but I don’t want my kids to assume that eating out is anything but a privilege. We really are very fortunate and I want my kids to be able to see that so that we are all ready and willing to help out those around us who need help that we can give.
Three kids, Four hours, one dinosaur museum. Most of the time was spent in the water erosion table (sand, water, plastic dinosaurs) or in the quarry (sand, paint brushes, fake dinosaur bones.) I suppose it is a lot of money to spend for my kids to play in the sand, but museum sand is special. Or something. We went through the whole museum twice. The first time was a mad dash to see what was next. The second time the kids slowed down, looked at things, and played spontaneous creative games. Kiki eschewed the trip in favor of hanging out with friends. Link played right along with Gleek and Patch, but I was interested to notice that he was always the first one to get bored. Gleek and Patch could play pretend for hours, but Link has shifted into an emotional place where he needs structured goals to enjoy his games. This makes sense since he is almost twelve. He is beginning the transition into being a teenager. So I watched him playing pretend and knew that, like the sand in the water erosion table, Link is constantly shifting and changing toward the future.